Storm's Cage Mary Stone (classic reads .TXT) 📖

access to those videos, but at this point, I think the dirty cop ought to take priority.”

Jaw clenched, Redker nodded. “I agree. My partner and I will do our best, but I want your expectations to be realistic. This is a lot of tedious work, and there’s no guarantee of success.”

Zane appreciated Redker’s candor. He liked a man who could tell it to him straight without sugarcoating things. “All I can ask is that you try. If my partner or I learn anything new, we’ll pass it on to you.” He scooted his chair away from the agent’s desk.

“Understood. We’ll do the same, and we’ll keep you posted on our progress.” Layton pushed to his feet along with Zane and extended a hand.

After a quick goodbye, Zane set off for the elevator. Smacking the call button, he checked his watch. The meeting with Agent Redker had taken less than fifteen minutes, and he was left with an additional fifteen before he was slated to sit down with the newest addition to the Leóne task force, an agent from the Bureau’s Public Corruption Division.

He snorted to himself. The longer he was in Chicago, the more public corruption seemed to be the norm. If a sitting U.S. Senator—a senator who also happened to be the head of a multi-billion-dollar agricultural business with roots dating back to the early nineteen-hundreds—was in bed with the Leónes, and if Brian Kolthoff had helped bankroll their illicit operations, then Zane figured he’d have an easier time picking out the officials who weren’t dirty.

As the elevator chimed, the silver doors slid open. Stepping out onto the familiar landing, he tried to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach.

Whatever. It’s a job that someone’s got to take care of. Better that someone who knows what they’re doing deals with it.

Clenching and unclenching the fingers of one hand, he made his way to the closed door of the dinky conference room next to the breakroom. He hadn’t expected any free time after his visit with Agent Redker, and he’d left his coffee in their temporary shoebox.

For a beat, he considered turning around to go retrieve the thermos, but he stepped forward to open the glass and metal door instead. Blinking repeatedly, he let his eyes adjust to the rays of light that spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling window across from the doorway. Even the fixtures inside the FBI office seemed dull compared to the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

Blinds clattered against the door as it swung closed behind him. When he swept his gaze over the cramped space, he barely managed to hide his surprise.

Seated at the circular table, the only occupant of the room had fixed her honey-brown eyes on him. The golden sunlight lent a reddish glow to her long, ebony hair, the ends of which were lightened to a dark ash brown. Either a balayage or a color melt, according to what he’d learned from Amelia that morning.

SAC Keaton had given him the name of their new teammate, but Glenn Kantowski had looked a lot different in his head. In his thirty-four years of life, Zane had crossed paths with a handful of people named Glenn, but they’d all been men.

Forcing himself to stop staring, he finally managed to offer the woman a nod of greeting. “Are you…Agent Kantowski?”

As she pushed aside a matte silver laptop, the semi-sheer fabric of her jade green blouse shimmered in the sunlight. “That’s me.” She smiled politely, but Zane caught the twinge of annoyance in her voice. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time. I still get called ‘sir’ in half the emails I get here and at home. You must be Agent Palmer?”

“I am.” He pulled out an office chair, taking a seat across from her as he reached out for the perfunctory handshake. “Nice to meet you. SAC Keaton wanted me to tell you she’s sorry for the change of plans.”

After a firm, businesslike shake, Agent Kantowski folded her hands atop the table. “It’s not a big deal. I wasn’t exactly in the middle of anything, anyway. I’ve got a couple court appearances next week, but I didn’t have anything big on my plate. Other than this task force assignment, that is.”

Zane scratched his unshaven cheek. “Well, fret not, Agent Kantowski. There’s more than enough work to go around. Agent Storm is out in the field, so she couldn’t make it today.” Though he’d thought to maintain an air of professionalism, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers against the table.

Until now, Amelia and Zane had been hush-hush about the RICO case they’d been compiling against the Leóne family.

The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act allowed the FBI and other investigative agencies to establish a pattern of illegal behavior in order to prosecute an organized crime group. RICO investigations were laborious, but the result was a harsher penalty for the criminal syndicate than would have been achieved otherwise.

To a group like the Leóne family, a RICO case was the only weapon in the Bureau’s arsenal that was capable of inflicting long-term, irreparable damage. For that reason, Amelia and Zane had kept the investigation as close to the vest as possible.

But SAC Keaton had personally vetted Agent Kantowski, and the woman wouldn’t be much use in their task force if Zane kept her in the dark.

He pushed aside the discomfort and met Agent Kantowski’s curious stare. “I suppose we’ve got a lot to go through, so we might as well get started. We’ll take it from the top and start with the RICO case.”

She lifted one overly plucked brow. “A RICO case? Against the Leóne family?”

Zane replied with a slow nod. “Yes. I’m sure you can understand why we’re keeping this all pretty quiet. For the past few months, there’ve been indications that we have a rat somewhere in the Bureau.”

Glenn’s eyes widened as she leaned back in her seat. “Huh. A rat? And not the kind that squeaks and eats cheese, I’d imagine. You think it’s a